


When You're Gone

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: First Times, Holiday, M/M, None - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 08:33:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/796109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Valentines brings Jim and Blair full circle</p>
            </blockquote>





	When You're Gone

## When You're Gone

by Kylia

Author's website:  <http://www.kyliasworld.net>

Not mine,

Valentine's Story, originally part of MY Mongoose Ezines

Post TSbBS

* * *

When You're Gone 

Jim Ellison trudged slowly into Major Crimes, trying to block out all the happy, cheery people, and their equally cheery desks, littered with flowers and corny paper hearts. The whole holiday made him nauseous. It wasn't that he hated Valentine's Day, at least not in theory, but he hadn't anyone to spend the holiday with in more years than he liked to think about. 

For the most part he didn't much think about relationships, partners and romance, or other things this particular holiday brought out. Except that he _did_ have a relationship, and he _did_ have a partner he wouldn't particularly mind getting romantic with. 

He even thought that his partner felt the same way, but there never seemed to be the right time, or the right place, or the right way to broach the subject. So they didn't talk about it, they just sort of continued on. 

This Valentine's Day wasn't turning out to be the right time either. Sandburg was in Seattle tying up loose ends on a case he had been helping out with, and Jim had spent half the day in court, thinking of a million places he'd rather be, and a zillion things he'd rather be doing, and the one person he'd rather be doing them with. 

"Jimbo." 

Jim winced at the nickname as he made his way towards his desk. "Yeah, Connor?" 

"Delivery for you." 

Jim saw the package sitting innocently on his desk and frowned. Who would send him anything? Especially on Valentine's Day? 

"Thanks." He said, almost as an afterthought as he slipped into his chair. 

The package was small, only slightly larger than a jewelry store box. It was completely square and wrapped in brown packaging tape, although it was obviously hand delivered, and not mailed. Lifting the box, Jim tried to sense if there was anything unusual about the gift, or anything that might tell him who it had come from. 

He could smell the faint scent of Connor's perfume, but assuming it was Connor who had taken delivery of the package, that wasn't unusual. The wrapping was simple enough and didn't leave him any clues. 

"Are you going to open it or stare at it all afternoon?" 

Jim looked up to find Simon standing over his desk, an unlit cigar hanging from his mouth. He looked back down at the package and decided that the best way to get rid of his audience was to open it. 

Inside the brown wrapping was another box, this one was silver cardboard. He lifted the top and found...tissue paper. Sticking one hand inside, he felt for whatever it was that had been wrapped in the soft paper. It was cool to the touch and not of any particular shape he could discern. 

Lifting it out slowly, Jim held up the small glass object for inspection. It was some sort of prism, reflecting different colors, depending on which way he turned it. His sight zeroed in, and examined the item more closely, making him feel as though he was _inside_ of the prism, seeing out. 

"Jim?" 

The captain's voice drew his attention away, and Jim put the prism back inside its box, wrapped in tissue paper. "Yeah?" 

Simon raised his eyebrows. "Who's it from?" 

Jim looked over the box again, searching for any kind of card. There wasn't one. He shrugged. "I don't know." 

It wasn't exactly your typical Valentine's gift, even assuming he had any admirers. He shook his head and looked back up at Simon. His friend stared down at him for a second before shaking his own head. 

"How was court?" 

Jim shrugged. "Postponed until next week." 

"Good, then you can finish up the paperwork on those three cases you closed last week." Simon smiled widely and turned to walk back to his office. 

Jim turned his attention to the three files sitting on his desk. He saw Connor walk by and stopped her before she got too far away. 

"Connor. When did this come?" He motioned towards the silver box. 

Connor looked at her watch. "Fifty-minutes ago. Why?" 

Jim shook his head and turned back to his work. Fifty minutes. That would have been at noon. He wondered if there was any significance to the time, but soon began working on filing his reports so that with any luck he could go home early. 

Home. It didn't quite hold the same interest when he knew he would be alone. 

* * *

Jim looked up just as a shadow fell over his desk. 

"Detective Ellison?" 

Jim nodded once as he looked over the boy. He looked to be about sixteen or seventeen; wearing faded black jeans and a T-shirt, emblazoned with the familiar logo of his favorite bakery. He was holding out a small bakery box. 

Jim took the box and inhaled deeply. A smile spread across his face. "Who sent this?" He asked, almost absently as he opened the box. Inside, lay the most perfectly decadent piece of cheesecake he'd ever seen, and it was sure to taste even better than it looked. 

The teenager shrugged as be began moving away from the desk. "I just do deliveries." 

Jim barely noticed the boy leaving as he took the little plastic fork and slid it easily into the dessert. The moment the soft cream cheese flavor hit his mouth, he sighed in pleasure. He hadn't gone to their favorite bakery in months. They used to get crullers and cheese Danishes every Sunday, and once a month, they'd stop there for dessert, but it had been a long time since he or Blair had done either. 

Once he had devoured the entire dessert, Jim sank into the back of his chair and sighed. He could still taste the creamy cream cheese, and the real vanilla used, overpowered, only slightly by the faint taste of strawberry used in this particular variety of cheesecake. 

He closed his eyes and tried to think about how many people knew about his love of cheesecake. It wasn't really a secret, but nor was it something he indulged in with just anyone. The list was pretty small. 

Blair. 

Connor. 

Simon. 

The same three people who would have known the significance a prism would have to someone with his eyesight. 

Jim looked across the bullpen to Simon's office and looked through the window. The captain was on the phone, and dialing up his hearing, he could hear Simon's gruff voice arguing, and through the line, the familiar voice of the police commissioner. Jim smiled to himself and dialed his hearing back down. Turning his head, Jim watched Connor on the telephone. She had a smile on her face and without even having to listen in, Jim knew she wasn't talking about work. 

Shaking his head at his own little mystery, Jim brought his attention back to his paperwork. 

Or at least tried to. He missed Blair. 

It wasn't as if he couldn't function alone, or that he turned into a complete ogre when Blair wasn't around to 'temper' him. He just... missed him. When he was gone. He found himself wondering if Blair felt the same way, but then just ended up laughing at himself at the ridiculousness of the question. 

It really was a no-brainer. 

Jim pushed such thoughts out of his head, and went back to work. As he looked back at his computer, he caught the time in the lower right-hand corner of the screen. 

One-twenty-three. 

Which meant that his second gift had come one hour after his first. 

He wondered idly if he should be expecting another delivery in thirty-seven minutes. 

* * *

At exactly Two-o-three in the afternoon, a woman entered the bullpen. She was wearing a business suit and, Jim thought she was from the D.A.'s office, come to tell him he had to go back to court. She stopped about three feet from Jim's desk and looked around the room. When she turned to face him, Jim noticed that she was carrying a square blue box, tied with a gold ribbon in her hands. 

The woman caught Jim's gaze and smiled. "Jim Ellison?" 

Jim stood up and nodded. "Yeah. Can I help you?" 

Her smiled widened. "No. This is for you." She handed him the box and turned to leave. "Happy Valentine's Day." She whispered. 

Jim smiled as he turned his attention to the box. It wasn't wrapped in paper but in blue felt, like jewelry store boxes. His sensitive fingers enjoyed the sensation. The ribbon, in contrast, was rough with glitter. He slipped it over the box and opened the little box, curious as to its contents. 

Jim wasn't exactly sure _what_ to expect, but what he found certainly wasn't it. He frowned down at the item as he ran his fingers over it. Satin. Blue satin. Jim lifted the soft material out of the box and noticed it was folded up. Opening it carefully, Jim stared at the rectangular shaped item. 

"Someone got you a pillowcase for Valentine's Day?" 

Jim looked up to find Henri Brown standing over his desk. "You know some strange people." Brown reached out to touch it, but Jim was faster and snatched it away. Brown shook his head and laughed as he walked away. 

Jim returned his attention to the gift and ran his fingertips gingerly over the material. It was an odd gift to receive, but he shut out the thoughts of _why_ and just enjoyed the sensation, as Blair was always telling him he should do, every once in awhile. 

The satin was expensive and Jim's fingers seemed to sink into it, his sense of touch dialing itself up automatically, in order to feel the fibers more completely. He closed his eyes as he brought the material up to his face and rubbed it against his skin, his whiskers catching slightly on the fine fabric. 

He sighed deeply and noticed a faint scent entwined in the fabric. So faint he couldn't quite place it, only knowing it was fundamentally familiar. He inhaled deeply, but the scent was so faint he still couldn't place it. 

Opening his eyes, Jim realized how he must look, sitting at his desk, holding a pillowcase to his face. Thankfully no one was looking. He folded the pillowcase up carefully and placed it back in the box, putting the box into a desk drawer, along with his first gift. 

Almost against their will, his eyes moved to the clock, calculating how much time until three o'clock. 

* * *

Jim was just leaving Simon's office at three-thirty when Rhonda walked in, carrying a slender, square wrapped package. 

"Jim, this came for you downstairs." She smiled at him as she handed it over. 

"Thanks." He smiled back and kissed her cheek. "Happy Valentine's Day." He took the gift over to his desk and opened it, unsurprised to find it to be a CD. However, which CD was something of a shock. 

A rare Gyrgy Ligeti composition. 

As far as he knew no one knew of his enjoyment of the composer. Not even Blair. He'd always been alone when he'd listen to the music, which was both original and amazingly beautiful. 

He sat back and stared at the disc, wondering, now more than ever, who his gift giver was. 

This latest one couldn't have come from either Simon or Megan, not that he had really believed they had been responsible. Blair was the most likely candidate, but Jim didn't think even his best friend knew about this particular pleasure. 

Still, it was the only logical conclusion. 

Picking up his telephone, Jim dialed a number and waited for the switchboard to pick up. 

"Can you connect me to Captain Mulhaney's office please?" He asked into the line. 

He heard the line click and a second later there was more ringing. "Homicide, Captain Mulhaney." 

"Captain? This is Detective Ellison with the Cascade police." 

"Detective, what can I do for you... again?" 

Jim paused. "Again? I've only called twice all week." 

"That's two times too many." Mulhaney snapped. He didn't sound really irritated but Jim didn't know him well enough to know for sure. 

Jim ignored the implication and plunged ahead. "I was wondering if you could tell me if my partner, Detective Sandburg was still there." 

There wasn't even a pause before the captain answered. "He left about an hour ago with two of my detectives. There was a break in the case and they went to question some witnesses." He sighed. "Is that all?" 

"Do you know how much longer he'll be needed?" Jim asked ignoring the other man's obvious exasperation. 

"Another couple of days, four or five, maybe. I'm sorry, detective, but I have work to do." Mulhaney hung up the phone. 

"Okay. Thank you." Jim disconnected his own line quickly; feeling depressed all of a sudden. Another four or five days. He didn't think he could last that long. Maybe he could get a few days off and drive up to Seattle himself. 

Before he had fully acknowledged his decision, Jim was up and moving towards Simon's office. 

"Come." Simon called from inside after Jim had knocked. 

Jim came inside and sat down. "Captain. Simon." 

Simon raised his eyebrows at the tone of his detective's voice. "What's up?" 

"I need a few days off." 

Simon stared at him for a second before breaking out into a smile. "You can't stand it can you?" 

"Sir?" 

"Being away from your partner. It's driving you nuts. Especially now." 

"Excuse me? I don't know what you..." 

Simon shook his head. "Valentine's Day, Jim? Sandburg isn't due back until next week. Did you have something...special planned?" 

"Simon, we're not..." He shook his head, trying to wrap his mind around Simon's assumptions. 

"No? Then you should be." He grinned broadly. "Request for time off approved." 

Jim sat still, stunned, not so much from getting the time off he wanted but from everything _else_ Simon had said. 

"Dismissed." 

Almost absently, Jim stood up and left, heading back to his desk, where he found another package waiting. 

He stared at it for a second, almost as if it was some foreign, dangerous object. His mind was still wound up with Simon's comments. 

"Jimbo? You okay?" 

Jim started and turned to look at Connor. "Yeah, I'm fine." 

She nodded and turned back to her own desk. Jim blinked and walked around his desk to grab his jacket and the other gifts, saving the newest addition for last. This one he was going to open in private, almost afraid of what it could be. 

* * *

Once in the privacy of his truck, Jim examined this latest gift. He knew that if his theory was correct there wouldn't be any more. Each of the gifts had appealed to one of his senses. First sight, then taste, touch and sound. This one should be scent. 

The box was rectangular, tall, almost like an aftershave or cologne bottle, but he didn't wear either, and Blair would know that, assuming of course his guess that Blair was the sender was correct. 

He opened the box slowly, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. 

It was a bottle of shampoo. 

Organic, herbal, the scent as familiar to him as the person who used it. 

Jim smiled softly as he unscrewed the cap and inhaled the scent. It smelled of apples. The green ones, slightly tart, but definitely appealing. 

To someone else, the gift of shampoo on a holiday for lovers, by a person who was only a friend might have seemed odd. But to Jim, it was anything but. It reminded him of his absent partner and all the ways he missed him and all the reasons why. 

As surprised as he had been about Simon's comments, his captain was right about one thing. If they weren't lovers, they should be. It wasn't as if he didn't love Blair, or that he didn't think that it was reciprocated. 

Their lives had been on such a roller coaster ride since the unplanned releasing of Blair's dissertation that it had never seemed like the right time. Apparently, Blair believed it was. Now. 

Who was he to argue? 

Jim smiled to himself as he screwed the lid back on the shampoo bottle and set it down. Starting his engine, Jim started to plan what to do next. Should he call Blair in Seattle and let him know he was coming, or surprise him? 

* * *

Jim still hadn't made any definite plans past packing a bag when he reached the third floor of his building. 

There was a green envelope taped just below the apartment number. The envelope itself was bare, without any name or other message, but Jim knew it was for him. He opened it and read the card inside. It was one of those small ones that you give with gifts. The kind that are blank on the inside. The front had a picture of an ape in a doctor's coat and once he opened it, Jim understood why. 

There was an address printed neatly inside, along with detailed instructions directing him to somewhere specific. 

The handwriting was unfamiliar and although the address was local, he couldn't quite place where it was, exactly. 

Jim didn't even bother to go inside. Instead he turned and went right back downstairs and climbed into his truck. 

Half a block from his destination, Jim realized where he was being led. Cascade General Hospital. The directions were no doubt to the room where he had first set eyes on Blair Sandburg, though he didn't know who he was at the time. 

Arriving at the hospital, Jim didn't even _need_ to follow the map. He remembered the way, even though it had been almost five years. He stopped in front of the door and listened, not wanting to barge in if it was being used. He didn't hear any sounds coming from inside, so he pushed the door opened and found another green envelope lying on the bed in the middle of the room. 

This one also held an address, a more familiar one. It didn't give any further instructions, but somehow, Jim knew exactly where he was expected to go. 

* * *

Nearly thirty minutes later, Jim Ellison found himself in Hargrove Hall, at Rainier University, outside of Blair's old office, what was once again a storage room. 

The door was opened slightly and Jim pushed it opened, almost expecting to see the Blair Sandburg of nearly five years ago, bouncing around on a chair listening to loud jungle music. Instead, all he found was an empty room, covered in dust. It didn't look like anyone had been in here since Blair had left. 

It looked as cluttered as always, if that was possible. There was one new addition though. A green envelope taped to the wall he had once thrown Sandburg against. 

This one only contained an address. No notes, or detailed instructions. Just a vaguely familiar address, to a bad part of town. 

It was almost six when Jim pulled into the empty lot in Cascade's warehouse district where one warehouse in particular used to stand. Now there was nothing there. Well, almost nothing. 

There was a jeep parked in the center of what had once been Sandburg's home. A man was sitting on the hood of the jeep looking up at the sky. Jim parked next to him and got out. 

"You're just in time." 

Jim leaned against the jeep and smiled at his best friend. "Yeah? In time for what?" 

"Look." Blair pointed up at the sky. 

Just as Jim turned his head to look, a bright flash of color exploded in the sky, starting with red, and making it's way through the rainbow, until all that was left was a dimming white. 

"Fireworks in February, Chief? You could have just got me flowers." 

Blair snorted. "Flowers make you sneeze. Besides, I wanted you to remember this." 

"This?" Jim asked as he stepped closer. "Valentine's Day?" 

Blair hopped off of the hood of his jeep and turned to look at Jim. "No, this." He stepped closer and brought his lips to meet Jim's. The kiss wasn't terribly passionate, or even very romantic, just a simple meeting of lips, but it was so much more than that and they both knew it. 

"I love you." Jim whispered when Blair had pulled away slightly to look at Jim, his blue eyes seeming darker than usual. 

"I know. I love you too." 

"I, uh..." Jim looked away. 

"What?" Blair asked, curiously. If he didn't know better, he'd think Jim was embarrassed. 

"I miss you... when you're gone." Jim admitted, then shook his head. "I know, it's stupid." 

"I miss you too." Blair answered simply. 

They smiled at each other before Jim turned back up to the sky. "So what was all this about? The gifts, the little hunt through our past. You could have just... told me." 

"I know." Blair took Jim's hand in his own. "I wanted you to know that I know you. I know what you want, and I know what you need." He said quietly and then looked around the empty lot. "And I wanted you to remember these places. How we met, and how far we've come." 

Blair shook his head, he wasn't quite saying it right, but it didn't matter. Jim understood. 

"I called Mulhaney. He said that you wouldn't be back for awhile." 

Blair smiled. "I know." He didn't offer any other explanation, and Jim didn't really need one. 

"So, what happens now?" Jim asked. 

"Now. We go home and make hot monkey love." 

"What is it with you and monkeys, Sandburg?" Jim asked, his mouth crinkling in amusement as his eyes darkened with the knowledge of what they would be doing soon. 

"Oh, I don't know..." He paused. "Did I tell you about the sheets? You'll love them." 

"Blue satin?" Jim guessed. 

Blair grinned. "First one home has to explain to the dry cleaners how they got dirty." He smirked and climbed into his jeep, starting the engine. 

Jim blinked and moved to his own truck. He didn't think he'd like to have any part of _that_ conversation. 

But the fact that there would be something _to_ explain almost made it worth it. 

Jim laughed to himself as he followed his partner out of the empty lot. He looked into his rear-view mirror and mentally said goodbye to the past, while he drove forward into the future. 

* * *

End 'When You're Gone' 

* * *

End When You're Gone by Kylia: kyliaowl@kyliasworld.net

Author and story notes above.

  
Disclaimer: _The Sentinel_ is owned etc. by Pet Fly, Inc. These pages and the stories on them are not meant to infringe on, nor are they endorsed by, Pet Fly, Inc. and Paramount. 


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